


Who said life was fair?

by day_dream_girl



Series: Gangster Ballum [1]
Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Ben's having a bad day, Callum's isn't much better, Highway Crime Family, Hurt Callum Highway, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mitchell Criminal Empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23820148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/day_dream_girl/pseuds/day_dream_girl
Summary: Ben's day is going from bad to worse, the business has hit a roadblock, Phil's on the warpath and the last thing he needs is his men taking matters into their own hands.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Series: Gangster Ballum [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767733
Comments: 16
Kudos: 89





	Who said life was fair?

“D’ya have _any_ idea how much they cost me tonight? Well, do ya?” Phil rages, pacing the small room like an angry, red faced panther.

“Yeah, I do as it happens,” Ben snaps back at him, “but it ain’t my fault, alright? I didn’t call the old bill in ‘ere to rummage round the place.” Ben rubs his forehead and glares down at the phone in his hands. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a weary sigh. Tonight was meant to be his night off, a chance to relax and get off with a fit bloke. Instead, he has his Dad breathing down his neck about their latest shipment and the cleanup from an unexpected visit from the coppers to deal with.

“No,” Phil growls, “’t was that Reggie Kray wannabe Highway, weren’t it?” He runs a hand down his ruddy face before finally stilling.

“Look on the bright side. Coppers didn’t find nothing and we can collect tomorrow night instead.”

“We was meant to be _delivering_ tomorrow! How’s it gonna look, eh? Phil Mitchell not delivering as promised.”

“Who’s going to dare say anything about Phil Mitchell? They know you’re good for it.”

Phil growls, eyes gleaming hard in the harsh light. “I got a reputation to uphold!”

“Dad, just, just go home alright?” Ben sighs, “I’ll sort it.”

“I’ll sort out those bloody Highways as well, an’ all!” his Dad snarls as if he’d never heard Ben say anything.

“Look, don’t go doing anything rash, yeah? We need cool heads with that lot. We already had the coppers around, don’t need to give ‘em another excuse to come poking their noses in, do we? Besides, d’ya really think Jonno Highway is gonna work with the coppers?” Ben scoffs at him.

Phil grumbles and barely spares Ben another glance before he leaves, the echo of the bang of the door reverberating through Ben’s skull.

He allows himself a moment to sit down on a chair and close his eyes, his hands shaking so much he curls them into fists. _Fuck,_ that had been close. If the coppers had arrived an hour later, they’d have caught their boys in the act of sorting through the product and right now he’d be in the local nick with only grey walls and a ratty blanket for company.

His Dad’s agitation with the Highways is becoming more of a problem, and one he knows he’s gonna have to deal with soon. They needed to focus on their business, not start a gangland war with some small time criminal. But Jonno Highway has an unnatural talent for riling people up and he’s become a greater thorn in his Dad’s side as of late. He can tell his Dad has Jonno fixed dead straight in his crosshairs; and when Phil Mitchell set his sights on you, it’s hard to deter him.

“Oi, boss.”

He blinks his eyes open to see his number two saunter into the room looking elegantly cool in his leather jacket. A brief contrite expression passes across his face, and it’s as close as Ben’ll ever get to an apology from Tubbs for interrupting his solitude. “Got something ya need to see downstairs.”

“Ain’t Ryan Reynolds in a mankini, is it?” he smirks. Tubbs looks a bit grim and Ben feels the smirk fall off his face.

“What now?” he barks.

Tubbs says nothing but leads him into the garage, and Ben can feel his impatience and dread building with each echoing step he takes. The other three muscles are standing at attention at the sides of the room but their focus in firmly in the centre. The space is eerily quiet but immediately Ben’s eyes zero in on a man tied to the chair facing away from him.

“Well, well, well boys, what’ve we got here, then?” he can feel the tightness in his throat and can hear it in his voice. He’s on edge, he’s had enough to deal with tonight, this is not something he needs right now.

“Found him nosying around where he shouldn’t a been,” the newest member of their crew, Jimmy, tells him, with a gleam in his eye. 

Ben stares at him; something about him has rubbed him up the wrong way since he started, but Tubbs had spoken up for him and Phil had seemed to take a shine to him. Impressed with his bulky stature and MMA experience. 

He feels a knot of dread in his stomach as he walks further into the room and turns around to look at their captive. His jaw tightens and he can feel a muscle jump beneath his eye as he sees the bruised face before him. Reaching out, he brushes his thumb beneath the split lip before gripping his chin and tilting his head from side to side to get a good look at what has been done. Blue eyes stare up at him, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Well,” Ben clears his throat, “this is certainly a surprise.”

“Untie me, now.” Callum Highway sits before him full or righteous anger and laboured breaths. His eyes blaze and Ben can’t help but bite his lip at the way the white t-shirt strains across his chest and shoulders. He looks glorious.

Ben glances over at Tubbs and the other men in the room before looking back down at the man before him. “Afraid I can’t do that right now.”

His captive pulls at his restraints and growls when they don’t budge.

“When my Dad and brother hear about this-”

“They’ll what? Beat the door down and rescue their damsel in distress?” A huff of laughter escapes and he leans down closer, until he can nearly feel Callum’s breath on his lips. “And what makes you think you’ll get the chance to tell them anything about this, eh?”

“That a threat?” Callum snarls, nostrils flaring.

Ben straightens and shrugs with a smirk. “Just a question.” He circles around Callum and casually places his hands in his trouser pockets, hiding his twitching fingers from curious gazes. “Where’d you find him, then?” he address the men loudly, but refuses to take his eyes off the blue swimming in front of him.

“Outside the bookies on Downsell Road,” Jimmy confidently tells him, chest puffed up and smiling shining white and gold. Ben feels his blood pressure rise and clenches his hands unseen.

“Downsell Road? Not quite the same as spying through the keyhole, is it?” Ben lashes, sending a cold gaze towards the man who swallows nervously, as if suddenly realising something isn’t quite right. 

“Yeah, but, but he ain’t meant to be around here, boss. This is Mitchell territory, ain’t it?”

“Need written permission to go for a run in the park now, do I?” Callum spits at the man standing at his side. “So what?” he sneers, challenging Ben. “You gonna shoot me? Eh? You know what’ll happen if ya do that though, don’t ya?”

Ben’s jaw aches with how hard he’s clenching it, the knot in his stomach tightening even more. Everywhere he looks he sees nothing but problems - his business, his Dad, his men and now, Callum Highway. Eventually, he relaxes his posture and sends a grin to the dark haired man. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah? Bit much jumping straight to a dramatic climax ain’t it? You haven’t even bought me dinner yet. Tell you what,” Ben leans down and brushes a lock of hair out of Callum’s eyes, “why don’t you take a second to cool down and I’ll be right back with you.” He sends him a cold smile and clicks his fingers at his men as he leaves. 

They follow him out like an army of ants and he waits until the door is shut behind them before he rounds on them. 

“What the hell have you done?” he growls, staring at Tubbs who holds his hands up in surrender.

“Hey, I did what I thought was best. Jimmy had already attacked the guy by the time I got a good look at him. Didn’t think it was wise to just let him run off home to Daddy dear after that, alright?”

Ben runs a frustrated hand through his hair before he rounds on Jimmy. He can’t stop himself from gripping him tightly and pushing him against the stairwell, his fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder. “Do you have _any_ idea who that is, eh?”

Jimmy blinks owlishly, his confidence disappearing under the fury of his boss.

“I, uh,” he glances towards Tubbs but finds no support or comfort there.

“ _That_ ,” Ben points aggressively back at the door, “is Callum Highway. As in Jonno Highway’s son. As in, the son of the man who has been trying to eat into our business. We’ve barely avoided an all out war and now _you’ve_ attacked and kidnapped his son!”

A line of sweat beads across Jimmy’s forehead and he gapes at Ben; eyes moving in all directions as the panic grips him. “Yeah, but I-I thought-”

“You thought what, eh? That you’d be the big man and take out one of the Highways? The state he’s in, we’ll be lucky if Jonno ain’t outside with a bazooka come morning!” Ben grabs him by the lapel and turns, shoving him against a wall. “Who the fuck said you could lay a hand on him, eh? For that matter, who said you were even allowed to fucking _think?!_ ”

“All right, boss,” Tubbs eventually intervenes pulling Ben back, “Jimmy was a little over enthusiastic, but we have him now and we don’t want ‘im, so why don’t we just get rid of him, yeah? He was pretty far away from his own turf. Shouldn’t have been wandering around here anyway. We could dump the body the other side of the city,” Tubbs shrugs, unruffled as always. “Wouldn’t be able to tie it to us.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ben mocks him, “you think Jonno and Stuart Highway care about things like logic and evidence, do ya? There ain’t no reasonable doubt with that lot!”

“Highway’s ain’t nothing compared to the Mitchell’s. We can handle ‘em.” Tubbs assures him, confidently straightening up.

“Highways may be a smaller operation, but they’re dangerous and unhinged. _His_ big brother is a complete renegade. He’s liable to do anything. After all the trouble we’ve had here today, the last thing we need is another loose cannon making for my Dad.”

Ben glares at the door and takes a deep breath, counting to ten in his head. _Shit_ , this wasn’t meant to happen.

“D’ya want me to call, Phil?”

“No!” Ben snaps at Tubbs, “I’ll deal with this myself.”

Tubbs looks uncertainly at him, “boss, I don’t-”

“I said,” Ben interrupts him, “I’ll deal with it, all right?”

Tubbs nods and Ben’s eyes narrow. “Get out of here, all of you.” 

“You sure that’s a good idea, boss?”

Ben glowers at Tubbs, until he backs off. 

Ben is sure that Jimmy feels the chill of his glare as he walks past but he grabs Tubbs before he can leave.

“Get rid of him,” he growls.

Tubbs meets his eye, taking in the angry ticking at Ben’s jaw. He nods and his gaze flickers to the closed door. “You know what you're gonna do?”

Ben follows his gaze and nods firmly. “From what I’ve heard Callum Highway is the most reasonable of the lot, not that that’s saying much. If that’s true he ain’t gonna be any more interested in starting a war than we are. Besides,” Ben smirks, “I think I can handle him, Tubbs. Ain’t exactly TheRock, is he?”

Tubbs shakes his head, a minute smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “If you change your mind, call me.”

Ben takes a few minutes after Tubbs leaves to get himself together before he walks back into the garage. What a night. Still, he's determined it won't end in total failure. He can make this work. 

He begins whistling as he walks through the door, lazy footsteps bringing him closer to the object of his musings.

“Here you are, all tied up with a nice little bow for me, and it ain’t even my birthday.”

Callum’s head snaps up and he turns his neck, straining to see behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the cocky heir to the Mitchell Empire.

“Untie me,” he demands, his wrists and arms already aching from being held in the uncomfortable position for too long. 

“And why would I want to do that?” Ben questions, shrugging off his wool coat and draping it over a chair.

Callum snorts and shakes his head. “Back without your bodyguards?”

“Yep.” Ben steps forward and runs his hand through the dark, tousled hair in front of him. Callum tenses, looking frustrated and annoyed. He bites his lip and then winces when a shoot of pain rushes through him from the left hook he took to the mouth. 

“None of that,” Ben coos at him. He frowns and cups Callum’s jaw, careful of the bruise forming. He inspects him again, taking in every cut and discolouration he can see on his face; his own eyes brimming with fury. He’ll have a black eye come morning, but he doesn’t think it’ll swell shut. Hiding that captivating blue from the world would be a crime. Blood is drying and crusting above his left eye and beneath his split lip. Overall though, Ben doesn’t see any serious or permanent damage.

“Well?” Callum snaps at him expectantly, eyebrows raised. “Do I pass muster?”

Ben arches an eyebrow at him, “just the face then? Not hiding any broken ribs or punctured lungs are ya?”

Callum glares at him, “took one to the stomach, just a bit sore is all. Why, going to nurse it all better?”

Ben’s tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth as if considering Callum’s suggestion, “bet you’d love that, eh? You stretched out on a bed and me tending to your every need.”

He straddles Callum’s thighs and lowers himself until he’s sitting on his lap, moving his arms around his neck. Callum groans and shifts uneasily.

“What’re you doing?”

“Don’t worry,” Ben whispers, nosing around his jaw and cheek. “I sent them off with Tubbs. Told ‘em I could handle you meself.”

Callum huffs, “and this is you handling me, is it?”

Ben tuts and lightly brushes his lips against the bruise forming on Callum’s jaw.

“Don’t be like that.”

“Are you gonna untie me or what?”

“I dunno. I kinda like having you at me mercy.” He grins.

“Ben!”

“Alright, alright,” he sighs, getting up. “You’re no fun, you know that?”

“Not when I’m after being jumped by some of your goons, no, I ain’t.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him,” Ben tells him darkly, producing a knife and cutting through the ropes.

The rush of blood back to his hands makes Callum wince at the pins and needles prickling his fingers. He rubs his hands and wrists in relief, eyeing Ben hovering over him, “I hope that don’t mean what I think it does.”

Ben rolls his eyes, “I can’t have a hot head like that working for me, can I? He’s dangerous, can’t trust someone like that who’ll just go off on their own agenda.”

Ben moves forward, until he sits himself comfortably in Callum’s lap. Callum’s arms automatically wrap around the younger man, even with the bemused look on his face. The knot in Ben's stomach loosens and is quickly replaced with something warm curling pleasantly inside.

“I thought you said they’d all be busy working on some job?” Callum grouses at him. 

“Didn’t you get my text?”

“Yeah, clearly I did,” Callum rolls his eyes at him and Ben pouts, fingers playing with the hair at the back of Callum’s neck.

“Someone dobbed us in to the coppers. The old bill were crawling all over here, trying to find something to lock us up. Dad called off the job. Too risky.” He leans over and kisses the corner of Callum’s mouth. “I _did_ send you a text.”

“Not soon enough, evidently,” Callum replies, relaxing and pulling Ben closer to him.

“So, what now?”

“Well, since you’re here anyway, how about we make use of the nice new bed I got in the flat, eh? It needs to be christened properly.”

“What are you gonna tell them you did with me?”

Ben shrugs. “I dunno. I’ll think of something. Might tell ‘em I swayed you with my charm and magic cock,” he licks his lips.

Callum blushes and he twists his lips trying and failing to suppress the smile. “You’re unbelievable, y’know that?”

Ben kisses him and winks, “bit of a turn on for you though, eh.”

Callum’s eyes sparkle and he traces random patterns up and down Ben’s back.

Ben sighs and feels himself relax, allowing his eyes to close briefly before looking up at Callum from beneath his eyelashes. “You're gonna need ice for that eye. But, babe, you have to be more careful. If Dad hada been here instead of me-”

“Forget your Dad, what about _mine?_ Not to mention Stu. If they ever got wind of this, Ben, you’d never have to worry about _your_ Dad, cos I’d definitely be six feet under!”

“Hmm,” Ben hums, “what is it with the cue ball brigade and being dicks?”

Callum doesn’t reply and Ben looks up at him, “What?”

“I just... this coulda ended badly, Ben, y’know?”

Ben’s grip tightens and he lets his hand drift down until it presses against Callum’s beating heart.

“Don’t think about that. I wouldn’t have let them hurt you Callum.”

Callum smiles at the fierce look on Ben’s face. “I weren’t thinking of me. I saw your face when you saw this lip. If any of them had seen it... your Dad...they’d know something was up. And I don’t want anything happening to you because of me.”

“Aw, my knight in shining armour!”

Callum huffs a laugh. “You know what I mean. How much longer do ya think we can keep this up, eh?” 

Ben ducks his head to lay against Callum’s shoulder, enjoying the way his thick fingers run through his hair. He hates when Callum starts talking like this. Why can’t he ever just stop thinking and start enjoying himself?

“This your way of saying you ain’t coming back to the flat?”

“No, Ben I-”

“Good,” Ben talks over him, standing up and retrieving his coat. He turns away from Callum, not willing to face him. He doesn’t want to have that discussion, not now and not here. He busies himself with nothing, all the time aware of Callum observing him. “You need to clean that mug of yours up before I let you near my sheets. Ain’t having your blood ruining my thousand count Egyptian cotton.” He chances a quick look at Callum out of the corner of his eye. “So, stop lazing about and get a move on, yeah?” he snaps, “If my Dad shows up I can’t guarantee he won’t have your head mounted in the office by morning.” 

He hears Callum’s soft footfalls as they approach him. “Ben,” Callum calls softy, gripping his neck and forcing him around to look at the gentle look in his eyes. He pulls Ben towards him, and automatically his mouth parts; warm breath puffy against his lips as soft wetness encases them. Callum’s tongue nudges forward, and the simmering want and desire in Ben’s stomach ratchets up to a hot white spike of need. He grips the front of Calllum’s t-shirt, moaning into his mouth and working his hand underneath the damp material of his back. 

By the time Callum pulls away, his eyes are dark and expressive, his mouth red and swollen and Ben’s brain feels like it’s lagging ten seconds behind. Callum rests his forehead against Ben’s and tries to catch his breath, humming lightly. Eventually he looks down at Ben, with a lopsided smile. “You’d be worth it, Ben.”

Confusion clouds Ben’s mind for a moment before he replays their conversation in his head. It’s all too much to think about now. He’s been working on adrenaline too long and Callum’s looking at him too softly and all he wants is to ride him until he’s blanked out and made that blissed out look appear on Callum’s face.

His tongue darts out nervously. “Come on,” he grips Callum’s hand and pulls him behind him. “That bed is waiting.”

He glances behind and sees the sunshine smile that ensnared him from the beginning answering him.

He doesn’t give a shit about what could happen in the future. They’ve got tonight and that’s enough. It’s got to be.


End file.
